Shifted Responsibilities
by sdbubbles
Summary: A short one-shot about Narcissa and Bellatrix, set during Half-Blood Prince, when both their husbands are in Azkaban and Draco is at school. For the If You Dare Challenge. Prompt - 563. Demented Sister.


**A/N: This is something from my attempt at the If You Dare Challenge. I chose the prompt "Demented Sister," and it made me wonder about how Narcissa would have dealt with living with post-Azkaban Bellatrix on her own in Half-Blood Prince, when both their husbands were in prison and Draco was at school.**

 **Anyway, I hope you like it!  
**

 **Sarah x**

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Narcissa hated this.

Lucius was imprisoned, while Draco was off at school on some insane mission to assassinate Albus Dumbledore – an act which everyone recognised Draco was incapable of committing. Everyone except her sister, Bellatrix, of course.

Bellatrix had lost what little sense of reason she had in Azkaban. What seemed mad to others was perfectly acceptable to Bellatrix Lestrange these days, and what Bellatrix thought was crazy was completely ordinary to the rest of the planet. There was no way for Narcissa to get her head around this. And, with Rodolphus in Azkaban with Lucius, Bellatrix had fallen into her home, under her roof, for her to mind like she would a child.

She had to live with the woman, largely on her own, now. In a great big empty house, with only her insane sister for company. Narcissa could hear Bella rattling about downstairs, the stairs below creaking as her boots hit them. She – Bellatrix – was capable of being quiet, but only when she wanted to be, and certainly not to the convenience of anyone but herself or the Dark Lord.

Narcissa lay there in bed, moonlight pouring in through a small gap in the curtains, trying to sleep, and failing miserably. How she missed her husband; at least the bed was warm with him in it. They would lie here and talk for hours, contemplating their lives, their next moves, their son...everything that would ever have an effect on their lives. But he wasn't here. He was in Azkaban. How he ended up in prison and Bellatrix didn't was a mystery to Narcissa: that mess in the Department of Mysteries was as much Bella's doing as it was Lucius'. She had murdered her own cousin, for crying out loud! Though Narcissa never liked Sirius much, for her had hung around with Potter and Lupin, and publicly set himself aside from his family's beliefs, she drew the line at actually killing the man. He was blood, whether she liked it or not, and she had her own standards and rules. She wasn't sorry he was dead, but she would not had struck the blow herself.

Cold in her bed, she checked the time. It was after two in the morning; if Narcissa didn't know Bella better, she would have wanted to know what she was doing prowling the house at this time of the night. Since returning from Azkaban, Bellatrix had lost her sleeping routines, sleeping for only a couple of hours each morning; that might have started when she had been first imprisoned in Azkaban, of course.

However, Narcissa could no longer tolerate the noise Bellatrix was making.

She got out of bed and pulled her slippers and night gown on, snatched up her wand from her bedside unit, huffing slightly as she made her way out of her bedroom and downstairs to see what in the name of Merlin her sister was playing at.

When she got down the stairs, she walking in on Bellatrix cursing vases and repairing them. "Morning, Cissy!" she excitedly greeted her, upon seeing Narcissa's small frame at the door. "Target practise."

"It is two o'clock in the morning," growled Narcissa. "Don't 'Morning, Cissy!' me. Some of us are trying to sleep."

"When did you become such a grouch?" Bellatrix demanded, with more cheer than was acceptable in the dead of the night. She aimed her wand at the crystal vase on a small table in the corner and shouted, " _Expulso_!" She danced around to face Narcissa. "Not all of us want to sleep our lives away!"

"Not all of us are maniacs!" retorted Narcissa. Her patience – what little had remained – for her sister was waning rapidly. "I swear, Bella, I'll throw you out if you keep up this carry on. Just...just go to bed."

Bellatrix cursed another very old, very valuable vase apart and, though she knew the vase would be repaired, Narcissa winced. It wasn't the first time Bella had gone through Malfoy Manor blasting her way through any heirloom she found regardless of age and worth. She always mended the damage, of course, but it was becoming more and more infuriating.

And, of course, there was no way Bellatrix was ever going to do as Narcissa asked. "No, Cissy. I'm not tired."

The older woman sounded rather like a stroppy child, but Narcissa put that out of her mind, for she knew Bellatrix often had the mindset of a seven-year-old. Though Bella had always been quite immature in some respects, and overly mature in others, Azkaban and its Dementors had intensified her immaturity. It had, as far as Narcissa had heard, taken much of Sirius' fun-loving nature away, too, though had remained the foolhardy risk-taker until the moment Bella had killed him.

Narcissa huffed lightly and answered, "I don't care. I _am_. And I can't sleep with you bouncing through the house like a destructive toddler!" Bellatrix, twirling her wand through her fingers, danced up to Narcissa with a wide smile. "Don't give me that stupid grin, Bella! It's ridiculous! You might not function like a normal human being, but _I_ do, and this is _my_ house, and I _will_ put you out on your ear if you don't get a _grip_!"

"Go on, then!" giggled Bellatrix.

The sound rang in Narcissa's ears, taunting her, boiling her blood. She had tolerated Bellatrix her whole life, putting up with her excessive brutality and childish behaviour, and she was finding post-Azkaban Bellatrix even more difficult to tolerate. Her now extreme brutality was unnecessary, and caused more problems than it could ever solve. While Narcissa shared the beliefs Sirius and Andromeda had renounced, she did not partake in Bellatrix's methods. This cruelty the Dark Lord employed was rubbing off on her sister, and she didn't like it one bit.

To hear Bellatrix declare that Draco should have been proud to have been chosen to kill Dumbledore was horrible – that was her nephew she was talking about. She had one nephew and one niece, and she didn't give a damn about them. Nymphadora had become an Auror, which meant she had Bellatrix were never to be friends, but Bellatrix actually _wanted_ Nymphadora dead.

And Narcissa, whose husband was incarcerated and whose son was trying to kill one of the most intelligent wizards on the planet, was nowhere near as vicious as her sister, who did not have half the worries Narcissa did.

So here Bellatrix was, tormenting an already tormented Narcissa in her own home, relishing in the upset she was causing to her own family.

Infuriated, Narcissa slapped Bellatrix hard across the face.

It wiped that stupid grin off her face, at least.

It was the first time in years Narcissa had seen Bellatrix genuinely shocked, though she recovered fairly quickly, but she was not half as shocked as Narcissa herself was. Never had she dreamed of laying her hands on her sister; they had always got on fairly well, but now Narcissa found her impossible to live with. It had never been this extreme, this unbearable, to live with Bellatrix. She had always been somewhat unpleasant and a bit mad, but loving towards the only sister she actually spoke to. Now she was just plain unhinged, and Narcissa couldn't cope with her, on top of everything else she was worrying about.

"Out," hissed Narcissa. "Get out of my house. Now."

"Don't be ridiculous, Cissy," Bella laughed, her tone dismissive as she turned her back on Narcissa and continued destroying vases, and now ornaments and glasses, too.

Her temper broke. She could not take this any longer.

Narcissa stomped up to Bellatrix and grabbed her by her wild, dark hair, hauling her unceremoniously out of the room, towards the door, Bellatrix shouting her protest all the way. She ripped open the door, and the cold night air blew through her hair and her home. "Get _out_!" she snarled as she threw Bellatrix from the house.

Bellatrix, still half-bent over, standing outside the door, stared at her. She glared back, unwilling to endure this carry on any more. She couldn't sleep or eat without Bella starting her caper. She couldn't get two minutes of peace and quiet, even when she was in her own bedroom in the early hours of the morning.

"Cissy," murmured Bellatrix. "Cissy, please. You don't want to kick me out. Not really."

"Bella, you're making my life a living nightmare!" shouted Narcissa.

Bellatrix's dark eyes washed over Narcissa, and she couldn't help but feel that Bella could see beyond her rage. Of course she was furious – she was never going to deny that or pretend it wasn't Bella's fault – but she knew herself that if Lucius were here, it wouldn't have gone this far. If Draco wasn't at risk, Narcissa wouldn't be so on edge. But Bellatrix could not carry on like this.

However, she still felt sorry for Bellatrix. All the years she spent in Azkaban had warped her into this state, and now she was unmanageable. Narcissa, on the other hand, had always been comparatively free, with her husband and her son, in a huge house and with more money than she needed without having to lift a finger. She had a responsibility to look after Bellatrix, whose mind had been twisted and crushed by the Dementors for years.

Bella was standing straight now, looking Narcissa in the eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. I'll go to bed."

"And what about tomorrow, and the next day?" Narcissa demanded, unconvinced by Bella's apology. "I need you to respect that this is my _home_. This is where I sleep. And I need to sleep, Bella. I need to be able to trust you not to break anything in your path, or bring trouble to my door."

Bellatrix took a step forward. "I'll stay in my bedroom at night," she said. "I'll be quiet. I promise," she added, holding out a hand for Narcissa to shake.

With a sigh of resignation, she shook on their new deal. "Get inside," she ordered Bellatrix. "We'll repair everything you've blown apart and then you're going to bed," she said, feeling almost like she was talking to a ten-year-old Draco. Bella's relief was unmistakable, but Narcissa was sure she had given her enough of a shock for her to be on her best behaviour for a while.

Once in the room Bellatrix had destroyed, Narcissa aimed her wand at an ancient vase and said, " _Reparo_ ," which she did several times before they managed to put everything back together. How long it would be before she had another conversation on the subject, she was unsure, but at least she had peace for tonight.

The pieces of the crystal decanter, minus its original contents, reassembled themselves perfectly, leaving nothing else to be mended. "Right," huffed Narcissa. "Get to bed. And if I hear so much as a squeak out of you, Bella, I swear, I'll put the Body-Bind Curse on you."

Bellatrix, sensing that she ought not to push her luck, raised her hands and headed upstairs. Narcissa looked around the room, only noticing now that the wine that was in the decanter was on the hard wood floor; she pointed her wand at it and murmured, " _Tergeo_." A second check revealed nothing else they had missed, so she too left the room and followed her elder sister up the stairs.

On the second landing, as she put her foot on the stair that had first alerted her to Bella's movements, she noticed a tall vase Bellatrix had broken on her way down the stairs in bits on the dark floor. " _Reparo_ ," she sighed, her wand aimed straight at the mass of porcelain.

She got to her room and shed her gown and slippers, put her wand back on the bedside cabinet and crawled tiredly back into bed. There was little she could do for Lucius or Draco just now. They had to fend for themselves.

Narcissa's responsibilities had shifted since Bellatrix had escaped Azkaban – after all, who else was going to keep an eye on her demented sister?

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 **Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


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